First, Do No Harm
by bionic4ever
Summary: FDNH1: Who is behind the plot against Rudy, and when he and a friend disappear will Jaime and Steve find them in time and who will pay the price for their rescue?  Special thanks to Julie for the perfect red ribbon! Thanks also to Aries 03 for her input.
1. Prologue

**First, Do No Harm**

Prologue

"This is Oscar Goldman; I've got a Code Snow White. Our ETA at National Medical is twenty minutes by chopper and I need Rudy Wells on the roof when we get there, with a full emergency surgical team ready and waiting. Jaime Sommers has been shot in the chest, and she's in bad shape. Austin's hurt, too."

He finally paused for a quick breath. "Get the Secret Service on it if you have to; use any means necessary to have Wells there in under twenty." Oscar clicked the radio's 'Off' button and sighed deeply, glancing toward his two friends in the rear of the Medivac.

Jaime smiled at Oscar as she nestled deeper into Steve's arms. "Even _**I **_almost believed you," she told him.

"It was the little bit of shakiness in your voice," Steve pointed out. "Gave it just the right touch."

All three sat silently for several minutes, aware of the gravity of the scenario they were playing out, as well as the real-life trouble they'd been forced to confront. Oscar nodded toward the waiting gurney. "Time to get you ready, Babe," he said grimly. "Let's just hope this works."

- - - - - -


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Jaime, already pale from tension and the all-night strategy session, had acquired a near-death-like pallor, courtesy of the OSI's top disguise expert. Her ghostly complexion, blue lips and the huge fake bloodstain spreading all the way across her chest made it hard for Steve to look at her.

Oscar had assigned their roles with the knowledge that the arm injury 'patient' would have a gun tucked into their sling. Although he had no doubt that Jaime and Steve would both use any means necessary to protect Rudy, Oscar knew that guns made Jaime a little queasy; that job was better left to Steve.

"So if it all goes perfectly," Oscar summarized for the third or fourth time, "Rudy will be waiting on the roof, surrounded by Secret Service agents wearing surgical scrubs. We'll pick him up, take off and the pilot will fly directly to a safe house well hidden enough that we won't have to worry about any more threats on Rudy's life."

"Or demands for his files," Jaime added, raising her head up off the gurney.

"And if the worst happens..." Steve interjected.

"If the group making these threats intercepted the pilot's transmission, they're on their way to National, too," Oscar reiterated. "My theory is they would wait to attack until Rudy is pre-occupied with his incoming patients."

"Jaime stays on the gurney," Steve said firmly.

"Unless it's absolutely necessary for her to move, or her help is needed," Oscar continued. "Six agents plus you, Steve, should be more than adequate to protect Rudy and grab the hit man -"

"Or hit _men,_" Jaime pointed out.

"Right. And you'll have to judge the situation by sound alone," Oscar reminded her, "because once you open your eyes, the ruse is over."

"Gotcha," she said, lowering her head back to the gurney.

"ETA one minute," the pilot called back.

Steve glanced out the chopper window, focusing his eye on the rooftop. "What the hell...?" he muttered. "Oscar, we've got a problem."

The chopper touched down and ready hands pulled open the rear hatch before Steve could go into detail. Jaime's eyes were closed, but the first face to greet Oscar and Steve wasn't Rudy's or that of an assigned agent.

"Michael...?" Steve puzzled. Michael gave him a strange look as he shoved past Steve to get to the gurney. Two nurses and a male assistant – none of them Secret Service – stood anxiously on the roof.

"I've got the OR ready and waiting," Michael said as he began wheeling Jaime out of the chopper. "How long ago was she shot?"

Oscar and Steve exchanged worried glances, and Jaime's eyes snapped open. "Where's Rudy?" she asked, tossing the act aside.

Oscar put a hand on the gurney, stopping it. "Get back to the way you were, Jaime," he said brusquely. "Michael, let's get her inside."

"_What the hell_ -?" Michael demanded, echoing Steve's sentiment.

"We'll talk inside."

Steve moved to the open hatch first and scanned the rooftop and the surrounding area. "Looks clear," he told them.

"Let's go," Oscar ordered, motioning toward the building's entrance with a nod of his head. "Fast."

The attendant grabbed the gurney and everyone hurried into the hospital and down the hall to the big OR double doors. Michael was too confused to question the fact that Oscar and Steve followed the procession all the way to the table. He was also very angry.

"This better be good..." he said with a scowl. "She's not really hurt at all, is she?"

"No," Steve confirmed. "Jaime's ok. We put a call in for Rudy, and he should've been escorted here before the chopper landed. Where is he?"

Michael shook his head. "All I know is that Lynda called, saying the Secret Service was in Rudy's office, that he was needed here because Jaime'd been shot in the chest. They couldn't find Rudy, and she wanted to make sure _someone _was here to meet the Medivac, so...here I am. Anyone mind telling me _why_?"

Steve and Jaime both stared with wide-eyed alarm at Oscar. His face paled. "Callahan was supposed to contact Lynda and let her know what was happening. If she didn't make the call -"

Steve was already halfway to the phone at the back of the OR. "I'll try and reach her."

Oscar began explaining to Michael that there had been a demand for Rudy to release his private Project Cyborg files and, when he'd refused, several serious threats had been made to his life. One gunman had already been apprehended, lying in wait near Rudy's car in the OSI lot, but he had refused to say anything, and the elaborate hoax had been a means to either bring down the group responsible or – at the very least – spirit Rudy off to safety.

Steve returned just as Michael finally understood. "Callahan...isn't in the building," he said in a grim voice.

"Of course she is," Oscar answered. "It's the middle of the day. Unless -" He looked from Steve to Jaime, who was now off the gurney and on her feet, ready to go – phony blood and all. Oscar's worry lines had deepened to gouges but his expression was determined and strong. "Time to call in Jack Hansen."

- - - - - -


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Miss Sommers, are you alright?" Jack Hansen inquired. It wasn't until Steve nudged her that Jaime stopped staring at Callahan's empty desk, realizing the NSB Director was talking to her.

"What? Oh, I'm...ok."

"I think he means the make-up, Sweetheart," Steve said softly. "Maybe you'd like to change clothes and get rid of the 'walking corpse' look?"

"Miss Sommers," Hansen persisted, "did Peggy Callahan ever give you any indication she was unhappy in her position here?"

"Of course not!"

"Did she have any reason to be angry with Rudy Wells?"

Jaime turned toward Jack with her eyes blazing. "Unlike you, Mr. Hansen, Peggy doesn't have a mean, angry or spiteful bone in her entire body!" She felt Steve's gentle hand on her arm, warning her to tread a bit lighter, and she took a deep, calming breath before continuing. "She had nothing to do with this, and right now she needs our help as badly as Rudy does. I can prove it."

Steve, Oscar and Hansen watched silently as Jaime reached for the bottom drawer of Peggy's desk. It was locked, but a slight jiggle with a bionic finger was all it took to slide it open. She reached inside, pulled out Peggy's purse and set it squarely in the middle of the desktop, glaring triumphantly at Hansen.

"Now do you believe me? She would never go anywhere without it – at least, not voluntarily."

"The security tapes would show Rudy coming up the stairs and Callahan getting off the elevator, and either one or both of them leaving the building," Oscar said pointedly, motioning everyone into his inner office. "Have you -"

"Already on it," Hansen confirmed. "The Secret Service is downstairs, interviewing the nurse, Lynda Something-or-Other, and also at Doctor Wells' home. My men are blanketing the rest of the building and the surrounding area. We've even got the parking garage covered."

"Wilson," Jaime muttered bitterly. "Her name is Lynda Wilson."

As though on cue, the elevator doors opened and four penguin-suited men escorted a sobbing Lynda Wilson into the office. Jaime hurried over to help her into a chair while the 'suits' took their positions like wooden sentries at the elevator door.

"Are you alright?" Jaime asked, leaning close to her friend.

Lynda nodded, but sobbed even harder. "He was here all morning," she said haltingly, "and then he got a phone call, said he'd be right back and...he left."

"Did he say who the call was from, or where he was going?" Jack queried.

The nurse shook her head. "I already told them he didn't."

Jaime glared fiercely at Hansen. "She's already been fully interrogated. Leave her alone!"

"Are you telling me how to do my job, Miss Sommers?"

Oscar stepped between his operative and the NSB Director. "Jack, why don't you and I go check out the tapes? Jaime can change clothes, you can both take a few nice deep breaths, and we'll regroup back here afterward." He led Jack to the elevator before he could protest, earning a nod of thanks from Steve, who'd been ready to step in with balled fists if necessary.

"There's a track suit down in the office," Lynda said with a sniffle, once Jack had gone. "You could shower there, too, if you'd like."

"Thanks. I've got a change of clothes in Steve's car, but a shower would be great."

Steve handed her his keys, his fingertips lingering on the palm of her hand. "I'll stay with Lynda."

Jaime nodded, gently squeezing his fingers. "I'd kiss you, but..."

"Come here," he said softly. "It's only make-up." They shared a brief but well-connected kiss and then Jaime was on her way, followed wordlessly by two of the penguins.

Minutes later, Oscar and Hansen were back, and their faces were blanched and grim. Their hands were empty.

"So – what did you find?" Steve asked, hoping his instinct was wrong.

As usual, though, he was right on target. "Nothing," Oscar told him.

"The tapes were blank?"

"No – there were _no tapes_ – every recorder was empty."

"Smash and grab?" Steve theorized.

Oscar shook his head. "Nope. Whoever removed those tapes used a security code to do it. Looks like this is an inside job."

"How many people have access to those codes?" Steve asked, suddenly thankful he wasn't one of them.

The men took seats around Oscar's desk. "Jack and I have them memorized," Oscar explained, "and so does the head of the FBI. The only copy – on paper – is filed under lock and key at the main office of the Secret Service."

While everyone contemplated what that could mean, the inter-office phone rang. It took a moment before they realized that, in Callahan's absence, someone had to answer it. Steve reached for the receiver.

"Oscar Goldman's office."

"Oh, I'm so glad it's you," Jaime whispered on the other end of the line. "Don't say anything yet." Steve could hear the urgent tone in her quiet words, but forced his face to remain neutral as he listened. "The other two penguins...are they right there in the room?" Jaime asked quickly.

"Yes."

"You need to ditch 'em. _Now_. I'm in the back office of a little coffee shop on the other side of the block from the FBI building. Steve, when I was going to your car, the suits tried to grab me, too."

- - - - - -


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Steve's back was to the office door where the two 'Secret Service' men stood at full attention. "I understand," he told Jaime softly. Was she safe now? He had no idea, but decided he needed to get off the phone and get to her as quickly as possible. As he placed the receiver carefully into its cradle, his eyes told Oscar as much as he could manage non-verbally. Steve debated simply going out the window, but that would mean letting the men at the door know he was onto them; leaving Oscar in their hands in that situation was unthinkable.

Instead, he shook his head, feigning bewilderment, and turned to Hansen. "I'm supposed to tell you to wait here. Your team found something at Rudy's house, and they're on their way." He rose to his feet, hoping the lure of possible evidence would be enough to keep the pseudo-penguins from following him. "And since we're all apparently gonna be here awhile, why don't I run down to the deli and grab some sandwiches?" He was prepared to run if he had to, but was able to leave the building and the grounds without a struggle.

The coffee shop Jaime mentioned wasn't one they normally frequented, but Steve judged he was in the right place by the wide-eyed looks on members of its staff. "Where's your back office?" he asked the girl at the register. Wordlessly, she pointed to a door at the end of a short hallway.

"I don't need an ambulance; it's make-up – I'm an actress." Steve heard Jaime saying as he opened the door without knocking. Jaime was sitting in a chair, surrounded by several waitresses and someone he guessed was the manager.

"An out-of-work actress, if you miss one more call, Missy," Steve said in a scolding voice. "I'm so sorry for the disturbance," he told the staff. "If I could just have a few minutes to talk to my 'talent' here, we'll be out of your way." The staff headed reluctantly for the door. "Any autograph hunters show up, send them away for me, would you?" he called after them as the door closed.

"What happened?" Steve asked, crouching down to encircle Jaime with his arms.

"The second we were in the parking garage and out of sight, one of them put me in a choke hold and the other pulled a gun. They tried to push me into a car. Steve, I should've let them – they'd probably have taken me to Rudy!"

"Or to an empty field somewhere, to shoot you in the head," Steve said pointedly. "No way – you did exactly the right thing...What _did _you do?"

"I fainted." Seeing Steve's worried face, she quickly added "Not for real. But when I went limp, the first one picked me up under my arms; when the one with the gun went to grab my legs, I kicked out with both feet. While we went down, I elbowed his buddy in the gut and then ran like hell."

"Sweetheart, you did good. I'm proud of you."

"No...you know how I feel about -"

"Jaime, listen to me. You got away and you're safe; that means you did it right."

"They're probably looking for me by now. If I go with them -"

"No. Way."

"I could find Rudy."

"It's too risky."

"I could wear a tracker..."

"Forget it, Jaime."

"But -"

"_**No**_."

Jaime sighed. Steve was probably the only person who could 'out-stubborn' her, and they both knew it. "What about the other two 'suits'? Where are they?" she asked quietly.

"In Oscar's office, guarding the door."

"Oh, God – then they've got Oscar & Lynda...they can _have_ Hansen, for all I care, but...Steve, what are we gonna do?"

"They don't know we're onto them, so we could play it cool and subtle, but -"

"I think we need to barge in and take 'em down," Jaime theorized, "before anything else happens."

"I was just about to say that." Steve extended a hand to help her up. "Let's go."

"Great minds..." she agreed. "Out the window?"

"My thoughts exactly," he told her. As Steve opened the window and turned to help Jaime climb out, his eyes latched onto something he'd missed when she was seated, and his heart did belly-flops. Beneath the huge fake bloodstain on the front of the shirt she still wore, there was a new stain – still wet, and spreading. "Jaime...?" he began, unable to look away from what his gut knew was _not _faked.

"When I was almost out of there, one of them...fired a shot..." she confirmed, right before passing out into Steve's waiting arms.

- - - - - -


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"You want me to _what_?" Michael asked in disbelief.

"I need you to bring the Medivac and land in the field behind the FBI building. As fast as you and the pilot can get here. Please, Michael -" Steve knew there was no way the little coffee shop's phone would be tapped, but he wondered how much longer the manager's patience would hold out before he came back to reclaim his office.

"Why not just land on the roof at OSI?"

"_Please_ – it's urgent. Jaime's been shot," Steve pleaded.

"You expect me to fall for that a second time?"

"Look, this is for real. She's unconscious and she needs a doctor. You're elected. How soon can you get here?"

"I swear, Steve, if this is another ruse -"

"It isn't."

"Ten minutes," Michael sighed. "And if you aren't there..."

"Thank you," Steve told him, hanging up the phone. He opened the office window as far as it would go, scooped Jaime back into his arms and carefully stepped outside.

_Now what?_ He looked around for a safe place to wait for the chopper and luck finally smiled on him. The dumpster area that sat between the coffee shop and the field was surrounded by a gated fence. After stepping inside, Steve twisted the mechanism on the gate so anyone else trying to get in would be unable to open it. He didn't dare put Jaime down there, and instead held her, cradled close to his own body, until nine minutes had passed on his watch. He opened the gate quietly and moved through the bushes alongside the coffee shop until he came to edge of the field where, just moments later, the Medivac chopper touched down.

Michael opened the hatch and poked his head outside with a skeptical look, until he saw Steve setting a new land speed record to carry Jaime into the chopper. "You really weren't kidding," Michael said softly, helping Steve put Jaime onto the waiting gurney. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Steve really didn't know how much to tell the young doctor, but he had to say something. "Someone tried to grab her, and they shot at her as she was running away."

"Looks like it hit the bionic section of her right hip and traveled up from there," Michael deduced, already taking stock of his patient's condition.

"I don't want to leave her," Steve said reluctantly, "but Oscar and Lynda are in trouble, and I have to get back there."

"I'll take good care of her."

"I know you will." Steve leaned down to kiss Jaime's forehead. "Thank you, Michael."

Steve watched from the cover of the bushes until the Medivac was safely in the air, then ran down the block to the closest pay phone. He dialed Oscar's private office number and held his breath, hoping, until (thankfully) Oscar, himself, answered.

"Oscar, it's me," he said quickly. "Don't answer this, but I need to know how many Secret Service men are in your office. If there are two, tell me you want mustard on your sandwich. Ketchup if there are four, and peppers for more than four."

"Alright, Pal, but that makes a dry sandwich."

"What?"

"They left a few minutes ago; said something about checking the hospital."

"Oh, no...look, I don't have time to explain now, but meet me in Rudy's office at National, as fast as you can get there."

- - - - - -

While Oscar was telling his driver to take him to National as quickly as possible, Steve was already halfway there on foot and Jaime was being placed carefully in bed by Michael and two nurses. The patient opened her eyes soon after the nurses had gone, and immediately began to argue.

"Michael?" Jaime blinked her eyes, trying to become oriented. "How did I get _here_?"

"You were shot."

"Well, I _know _that!" She threw off the carefully arranged covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed, trying not to grimace in pain. "I can't stay here. I have to find Rudy -"

"You have to get back in bed," Michael said firmly, 'helping' her back into a semi-prone position.

"Michael -"

"I'll sedate you if I have to. Jaime, you can't even walk!"

"I walked just fine to the coffee shop. Actually, I ran."

"Well, I'm sure the adrenaline's worn off by now. You are staying put. Doctor Marchetti's orders."

"But -"

"Uh-uh. Maybe if you run it by me, a fresh viewpoint might help. Rudy is definitely missing?"

"Yeah. They've already tried to kill him at least once."

"Have they made any demands?" Michael asked.

"When it all started, they wanted his files for Project Cyborg, but since he went missing, we haven't heard anything."

"Wait a minute. _Project Cyborg?_" Michael frowned. "Are you sure they didn't say The Bionic Project?"

"No – they said Project Cyborg. Why?"

"It's been The Bionic Project for years now – ever since Steve became the first human subject. Rudy felt the original name sounded too robotic."

"What are you saying?" Jaime asked, confused but excited by this possible lead.

"There are only a handful of people who would've even heard of Project Cyborg, and all but one of them are still on the team; still at this hospital, matter of fact."

Michael got up and walked to the window, weighing his words carefully. Steve walked in at exactly the right moment to hear what the young doctor had to say next.

"Jaime, I think I know who's behind this."

- - - - - -


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The only way to keep Jaime in her hospital bed was for Oscar and Steve to meet with Michael in Jaime's hospital room, so after locking the door securely and checking the room for listening devices, that was what they did.

"I've never even heard of Project Cyborg," Oscar reflected. "I thought they had the name wrong; even the oldest files, the ones from when Spencer was in charge, say 'Bionic Project'."

Michael nodded. "That's because it was never really called Project Cyborg – not on paper, anyhow. Rudy had a partner in the beginning – a scientist named Jason Havilland – and that was the working title the two of them had for their research. After they tested their theories on Max, Havilland just faded into the background; I don't know why. By the time Steve's surgery was authorized, Rudy was in it alone and he gave the project its real name."

"What happened to this partner?" Jaime asked.

"There's not a word in the files about any Jason Havilland," Oscar said.

Michael nodded again. "Exactly."

"So now he could be trying to reclaim what he feels is rightfully his..." Steve added.

"Makes sense," Jaime agreed. "He must have found someone to help him, though. No one could pull all of this off on their own. We need to find this Havilland guy – fast."

"Wrong, Jaime," Steve told her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "_You _are staying put until Michael says differently."

Jaime opened her mouth to argue, but thought better of it when all three men turned to her with the same firm, no-nonsense expression. "Fine," she sighed. "But it'll be under protest."

"So noted," Steve said lightly. "Oscar," he added, suddenly all business, "let's get on it."

Jaime woke from her sedative-enforced nap hearing voices she didn't recognize coming from the room across the hall. "I did what he said – I called Austin at OSI and told him the Sommers girl has taken a turn for the worse. Once he gets here, we'll grab both of 'em."

"I just checked on her, and she's out like a light. We could take her now."

"No – we wait here and take 'em down together. Austin has to cooperate with the little lady's life on the line."

"What if she wakes up?"

"She won't, but I suppose we could take her into custody now, and wait in there."

"Let's get it done," his partner agreed, reaching for the doorknob to Jaime's room. "Hey, where'd she go?"

Jaime's bed was empty.

Steve anxiously threw open the main entry door and ran down the hall to the stairwell, knowing he could get up to the third floor – and to Jaime – faster that way than by waiting for the elevator. He'd spoken to Michael on his way out of Oscar's office and he knew Jaime was no worse, medically, but something was obviously happening and _Jaime needed him_. He'd hated having to leave her there, especially in this situation, but he and Oscar had both felt strongly that the fake penguins would have seen them arrive and then leave so quickly, and they'd hopefully assume there was a lead – and follow them out of the hospital. Steve had hoped they were luring the men _away _from Jaime; if something had happened to her, he knew he'd never forgive himself.

Arriving at the third floor landing, Steve found the hallway clear, and picked up his speed even further. He was almost to Jaime's room when another door opened and a pair of strong, determined hands nearly yanked him off his feet, pulling him into the supply closet.

Steve spun around, already in fight mode and determined to free himself (and get to Jaime) at any cost. When he saw his attacker's face, though, his fists dropped to his sides.

"Jaime? What are you doing?" he asked, very quietly.

"Saving your butt, and mine," she whispered back. "I know they're looking for us; they were on their way into my room to get me, and then you."

"They? The guys in the penguin suits?"

"I didn't wait around to find out. I heard 'em coming and I hit the ledge."

"The _window_ ledge? As in _three floors up_? Didn't Michael give you a shot?"

"Well...yeah...I guess my self-preservation is stronger than Michael's sedative." She leaned into Steve's arms, feeling somewhat wobbly now that she'd begun to think about it. "I'm guessing at least one of 'em is dressed like an orderly or lab tech, 'cause I heard him say he'd checked and I was asleep."

"He was _in your room_?"

"Apparently – or at least in the doorway." Seeing Steve's stricken look, she added, "Yeah, I don't like that very much either."

"I never should've left you alone."

"Rudy _needs _you looking for him. He needs both of us -"

"Jaime -"

"I know – Rudy'd be the first one to tell me to get back in bed, but I can't exactly do that right now."

"How many people did you hear talking?" Steve asked.

"Just two."

Still holding onto Jaime with one arm, Steve got out his datacom and began relaying the information to Oscar. He was nearly finished when Jaime's tense grip on his arm made him fall silent. He looked at her questioningly, and saw her eyes grow wide with alarm.

"They know we're in here," she whispered, as softly as possible, "and they're coming this way!"


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Steve instantly pivoted so that he was next to the door, moving Jaime further back into the closet and shielding her as much as possible with his own body. They both stayed silent as their would-be attackers closed in. Steve held the doorknob firmly, and as soon as it began to twist in his hand, he drew back and kicked the door with all his strength. The thick wooden panel flew out of its hinges, breaking into pieces as it flung three startled men into the far wall. They all slumped to the floor, still and quiet. Steve stepped into the hallway, intending to secure them, when Jaime's ear picked up a sound that told her it wasn't quite over: the ominous 'click' that could only be the cocking of a gun.

"Steve, get back!" Jaime called. Moving solely on instinct, she pulled him back by his shoulders and stepped around him, gripping tightly the only ammo she could find. Their quarry had nearly gotten a perfect shot at Steve, but didn't care at all which one he shot first and coldly turned the gun on Jaime as she moved into the hallway. Taking fast, careful aim, Jaime raised her arm, tossed her 'missile' – and conked the potential assassin squarely in the forehead with an industrial-sized jar of Vaseline. At bionic strength, it was more than enough to put him down for the count, and she turned to smile triumphantly at Steve.

"We do make a great team, don't we, Partner?" Having used the last of her energy, she gratefully melted into his waiting arms.

- - - - - -

Jaime opened her eyes several hours later to find both Steve and Oscar in her room, both staring tensely at the floor. "I know that look," she said softly. "The 'penguins' were a dead end – or...were they...dead?"

Steve's smile was genuine when he saw she was awake. Both men moved toward the bed. "Hi, Beautiful," Steve answered. "Not dead – all four of 'em are alive and well. Just not talking."

"Not one will say a single word," Oscar confirmed. "They've handed over their Secret Service ID badges and closed their mouths."

"ID badges?" Jaime frowned. "_Real _ones?"

Steve nodded. "Oh yeah – they're all legit. Well, bought, paid-for and gone rotten, but they're all agents."

"Were," Oscar corrected.

"Right."

"So we're no closer to finding Rudy and Peggy," Jaime sighed dejectedly.

"I'm afraid not," Steve told her. "We're looking for witnesses who may have seen someone in the building this morning who didn't belong there, or someone loitering by the security cameras, but no luck there yet, either."

Oscar leaned a little closer. "Jaime, when you overheard the men talking outside in the hall, you said there were only two?"

"That's all I heard, anyway."

"And one of them mentioned that they'd done what 'he' said?"

"Yeah. They didn't say who 'he' was, though. Do you think they meant Havilland?"

"Maybe," Oscar said, "but Havilland couldn't have pulled those security tapes. And I doubt the Secret Service did, either, or someone would've noticed."

"Someone...like Callahan?" Jaime suggested.

"It's possible, Oscar," Steve agreed. "Maybe she came across whoever was pulling those tapes, and they had to make sure she was kept quiet, so they took her – or..." His voice trailed off; he didn't want to voice that thought in front of Jaime.

Jaime voiced it for him. "Or else, they killed her."

Steve sat down on the edge of the bed and wrapped Jaime tightly in his arms as she struggled to fight back tears. "We'll find them, Sweetheart," he said quietly. He looked up to see Oscar moving toward the door, where Jack Hansen was waiting. Jaime caught the look, followed it, and nodded Hansen into the room.

"Whatever it is," Steve confirmed, "you may as well come in here and tell us, so this little lady isn't sneaking down the hallway to eavesdrop."

"I resemble that," Jaime said lightly. Looking up at Hansen, she asked "You have something? A lead?"

"Possibly," Jack told her, approaching the bed. He opened his briefcase and held up four tapes.

"You found them?" Jaime asked, brightening.

"Not exactly. These are the tapes from the front of the FBI building across the street – two views – both of them showing the front of your building, Oscar, or a portion of it. The others are from in front and to the side of my building – not as much of your building on those, I don't think, but we may see someone going down the sidewalk."

"Let's go down to Rudy's office," Oscar suggested. "There's a player in there."

"Hey," Jaime reminded them, "person on enforced bed rest here who really wants to help."

Steve shrugged. "If it isn't on wheels, I can carry it. Another set of eyes couldn't hurt. I'll go get the player."

A few minutes later, the tape player was set up at the foot of Jaime's bed. The first tape showed the approach to OSI Headquarters from the front, with the fountain unfortunately blocking the view of the doors. No one unusual appeared on the sidewalk. Jack put in the second tape, which caught a side angle of the entrance from the area of the parking garage. Jaime spotted someone almost immediately.

"Oscar, who is that?"

Oscar moved in for a closer look, then re-wound and looked again, shaking his head in disbelief. "My God...that's Oliver Spencer!"

- - - - - -


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"How would Spencer be connected to Havilland?" Jaime puzzled. "Did they even know each other?"

"Jason worked with Rudy under Oliver Spencer," Oscar told her, "but when Rudy became exclusively an OSI scientist, his partner...didn't."

"Why not?" Steve wondered.

"We have no personnel record for him, so I can't answer that – yet. Jack's teams will be working on gathering any information they can find on Havilland while they try to track him down. Steve will find Spencer, and -"

"What about me?" Jaime asked with a slight pout.

Oscar and Steve exchanged a glance with Michael and all three men shook their heads.

"Young lady..." Oscar began.

"You were shot less than twelve hours ago," Steve reminded her. "Enough said."

"But -"

"**NO**!" three voices chorused.

"Oscar, you need all hands on deck, and you know it," Jaime protested.

"Sedate her if you have to," Steve told Michael.

Michael chuckled. "So she can go ledge-hopping again, three stories up?"

Jaime pouted more convincingly. "It was better than the alternative."

"I'll keep an eye on her personally," Michael promised.

Steve smiled. "Thank you. Oscar, we'd better get to it." He leaned down to kiss Jaime softly, then he and Oscar left her alone with her doctor. Her pouting eyes followed them all the way out the door.

- - - - - -

"Goldman, precisely what is the meaning of this?" the man with the cane demanded as his NSB 'escorts' deposited him into a chair in Oscar's office and left him there, closing and locking the door on their way out.

Oscar stared at his predecessor for a moment before turning on the tape player, conveniently set up beside his desk. "The question, Oliver," he said grimly, "is what is the meaning of _this_? Why were you here this morning – in this building – and what _exactly _did you do?"

Spencer shrugged. "I was out for a walk and decided to visit some old comrades; any harm in that?"

"Which old comrades did you see? Because no one in this building had any contact with you today."

"I don't think I need to answer that to you."

"_Then answer it to __**me**_," Steve demanded, stepping out from behind the wall of file cabinets and shelves.

"Austin?" Spencer began to bluster, at a loss for words. "Goldman, what is going on? I will not be interrogated like a common criminal!"

Steve leaned against the front of Oscar's desk, directly in front of Spencer's chair, folding his arms across his chest and glaring angrily. ""If it walks like a duck..." he muttered.

Oscar shut off the tape. "Jason Havilland," he said distinctly.

"Excuse me?"

"You hard of hearing now?" Steve demanded. "Tell us about Jason Havilland. And be aware I'm not quite as patient or non-violent as my boss here – you don't want to get me any angrier."

"Is that a threat, Colonel Austin? Against the very person who saved your life?"

"**Jason Havilland**," Steve repeated. "Now it's your turn to talk."

Spencer glared back, but his face grew pale. "If I'm being formally questioned – about something I have no knowledge of, I might add – I want an attorney present."

"No need for that," Steve growled. "There aren't any charges against you." He leaned directly into Spencer's face. "When was the last time you spoke to Havilland?"

"I don't have to answer that, and I won't, when you take that tone of voice with me."

Steve turned to his boss. "I think it's time for you to leave the room. Oliver and I need some quality time alone together."

Oscar nodded. "I think that's justified." He headed for the door.

"Wait a minute!" Spencer exclaimed.

"Let me know when you're finished, Pal," Oscar said over his shoulder, re-locking the door as he left.

Steve moved as though he would grab Spencer's collar but took him by the neck instead, raising him out of the chair. "Just you and me now," he told his quarry. "You're not a stupid man; you know how this works. We're not stupid either. You were in this building this morning, and you took security tapes from our cameras."

"You're...crazy..."

"_**Why**_? Are you working alone, or with Havilland?"

"I don't know...what you're talking about!"

Steve held Spencer suspended in the air and shook his body as if it were a rag doll. "Dammit – where is Rudy Wells?"

"Can't...breathe..."

"And you _won't_ breathe, until you're able to breathe out an answer for me!" Steve insisted. "You know better than almost anyone what I can do. Or do you need a reminder?" He raised his arm – and his one-time boss – above his head with another shake for good measure.

"Alright...ok...just...put me...down." He gasped to quickly catch his breath. "Didn't think violence was your style, Austin," the older man sneered as he settled back into the chair. "Never was before."

"How the hell would you know? You don't even know me!"

"Is that any way to talk to the person who gave you your life back?"

Steve had to force himself not to take a swing. "You only knew the robot you _wanted_ to make. You would've had me in electro-sleep between missions!" Steve took a hard look at the man who'd once held so much power but now looked so small and insignificant. "My God, that's it – isn't it?"

"What kind of nonsense are you spouting, Austin?"

"You're still after your own personal robot! Havilland got shoved aside by the OSI just like you did, and you convinced him to help you."

"You're insane!" Spencer scoffed.

"I'm _right. _Except Havilland couldn't work out how to apply his bionic science to humans, so when Rudy wouldn't hand over his files, you took him instead!"

"I took _no one!_"

"Then your Secret Service puppets did."

"You can't prove any of this."

"Oh, don't worry – we will. My only question is what Peggy Callahan has to do with any of this..._oh, no_..."

Spencer laughed heartily. "And why not? Coming back here with all of that insider's knowledge of hers – unstoppable."

"You're a monster," Steve said softly, walking over to open the door where Oscar and Hansen were waiting just outside, listening on Peggy's intercom.

"You disgust me, Oliver," Oscar growled through clenched teeth. "Tell us where to find them – NOW – or I will personally make sure you fry."

"No death penalty in DC, my friend."

Oscar's face was red with anger. "_**I will do it myself**_!"

"You'll really be retiring in style now, Ollie," Steve taunted, once more closing and locking the door.

- - - - - -


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

One of the first things Oscar had taught her was to trust her own instinct implicitly, and Jaime's inner voice was screaming one thing, insistently and with neon-bright intensity: _**Find Rudy**_! Since she was confined to her hospital bed (albeit under protest), she had very little to do except try to reason it all out.

It obviously had something to do with bionics since they'd wanted Rudy's files...but what was it? Jaime knew that Havilland had enough knowledge to assist in making Max bionic, so if he was behind this with Spencer (and her gut told her that he was), then he must want to know more. He had all the rudimentary knowledge, she reasoned, so what else was there? Of course – what Rudy achieved on his own, without Jason...Human Bionics! Jaime was certain that was it. If he wanted to experiment with a human subject, or possibly wanted the information to sell it, where would he go? He'd have to be at one of Rudy's labs. Jaime closed her eyes and took a deep breath; she was onto something, and she knew it.

How many labs did Rudy have? The labs in Los Angeles and Colorado Springs were probably out, she guessed, because they were more likely to take Rudy to a lab close by. They were definitely not at the lab at OSI Headquarters because that was where he was taken from. That left only one possibility, and Jaime's eyes opened wide as she sat bolt upright in bed. Suddenly, she knew where to find Rudy.

- - - - - -

The basement corridors were pitch dark and eerily silent, but in the tiny, hidden room at the end of a long, winding hallway, every light was blazing. Rudy sat silently in a chair with his arms folded in front of him, glaring at his captors as he viewed the makeshift operating table in the center of the room.

"I know it's less than you're used to working with," Havilland sneered, "but it's more than we had to work with when this was our lab. I'm sure you remember – don't you?"

"You're wasting your time," Rudy insisted quietly. "I won't do it. Under these conditions, it's likely to kill her."

"But you're so good at what you do, _Doctor_!"

"You're talking about _mutilation_!"

"Are you saying you mutilated Austin and Sommers?" Havilland asked. "Sounds like a confession to me."

"They'd already lost their limbs – and very nearly their lives! This is entirely different."

"I could do it myself, but I'm merely an unimportant scientist – someone you couldn't be bothered with after the OSI noticed OUR work..." Havilland shook his head with mock sadness. "That was so inconsiderate, and now this pretty young lady will be my ticket to the same kind of glory you found. Glory that **I** helped you achieve! Now you're going to help me."

"No."

"The mutilation, as you call it, is only temporary. While she starts to heal – in electro-sleep, of course, you'll help me fashion her new limbs, and -"

"_**I said no**_!"

"That's fine." Havilland stepped closer to the table where Peggy Callahan was lying unconscious, and he picked up a scalpel. "Or do I need a saw...?" he pondered out loud.

- - - - - -

The phone call from Jaime had come into Oscar's office at almost the exact moment that Spencer was telling Oscar and Steve where to find his partner in crime (and the two hostages). Amazingly, Jaime gave Steve precisely the same information. Rudy and the others were in a tiny basement lab, down the stairs and through a maze of hallways in the old, abandoned section of _National Medical_!

"Steve, I'm gonna go get them!" Jaime said excitedly.

"No! Stay in bed – I mean it! We'll give Ollie over to Hansen and be there in less than half an hour." Steve looked up and nodded to Oscar, who was already preparing to turn Spencer over to the NSB.

"Peggy and Rudy might not have that long!"

"Well, neither will you, if you go down there alone, hurt and with no back-up. Please, Jaime!"

"I won't leave the hospital," was all she'd promised before hanging up.

Now, Oscar and Steve were in the back of an OSI car that was speeding toward National, both of them praying silently that Jaime would have the good sense to wait for them, and both of them knowing for certain she was already heading down the dark, empty corridors on her own.

- - - - - -


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

_First, do no harm _had been Rudy's credo long before he took the Hippocratic Oath, and now he faced the most horrific, soul-wrenching dilemma of his life. What he was being asked to do was unthinkable, but if he refused and Jason did it himself...

Rudy knew he couldn't do it, but he also couldn't sit idly in a chair and watch while one of his friends was basically murdered. There was only one choice open to him, and that was to try and stop his former partner. Without time to consider the consequences, Rudy dove out of the chair and punched Havilland in the stomach, reaching for the scalpel while he still had the element of surprise.

Jason didn't see him coming, but his reflexes were well-tuned, and he twisted his body and raised his other arm, grabbing the heroic doctor in a headlock. They battled briefly for the surgical tool, but Havilland was a good ten years younger than his former partner and soon had the upper hand. He began to bring the scalpel toward Rudy's throat when the door behind them burst open.

"Let him go!" Jaime demanded.

"I don't think so," the now-mad-scientist snarled. "Anyone not with me is against me, and I _will _win this one!"

Time seemed to come to a dead stop as Jaime looked from Rudy, in imminent peril, to Callahan, unconscious on the table. Jason held all the cards and he knew it, but Jaime was determined to save her friends. She charged at the arm holding the scalpel to Rudy's throat, pushing it out straight, away from the doctor. As Rudy rolled to the floor and away from his attacker, Havilland began to slash wildly at Jaime. Rudy reached out from his prone position and sent a hard, solid karate-type chop into the madman's legs. Havilland fell to the ground and Jaime quickly grabbed the scalpel. Seeing that she, too was now out of danger, Rudy threw Jaime a length of cord that had been used to immobilize Callahan before she'd been knocked out. Jaime secured Havilland – a little tighter than necessary – just as the lights flashed on in the corridor that led to the lab.

_About time you get here, Steve, _Jaime thought to herself, poking her head out the door to greet the rescue committee.

It wasn't Steve. The four pseudo-penguins stood shoulder-to-shoulder, blocking any possible exit from the basement as they all brandished their guns threateningly at Jaime. "Move back into the lab, nice and slow," one of them commanded. "You pull any tricks and your friends pay for it."

With no avenue open to her, Jaime walked back to stand next to Rudy. Jason got up from the floor and laughed. "Well, Miss Sommers, since you've seen fit to join us, I guess I don't need Rudy or his files anymore, do I? You can be my blueprint."

Jaime nodded. "That's right – so you can let Rudy go. Callahan, too – you've got me, so you don't need to do this to anyone else."

"Very noble – and courageous – but I need a creation of my own, not one constructed by my oh-so-loyal ex-partner. You'll still be a big help, though, once I have you dissected..."

The penguin gunmen stepped into the lab, still in a neat row inside the doorway, and then began to fall like dominoes, one knocking into the next; Steve and company had finally arrived. A posse of NSB and OSI operatives started grabbing and cuffing their five new prisoners as Steve rushed to Jaime's side.

Rudy glanced at his patient and saw that her pale skin was not the result of make-up and her hospital gown was no ruse; she was really injured. He grabbed her just as she began to sway in place, and eased her into Steve's waiting arms.

"Is everyone alright?" Steve asked anxiously.

"I'm ok," the doctor answered, looking from Jaime to Callahan and back again. "We need to get these two upstairs, though."

The good guys had cleared the room with model efficiency, and Oscar helped Rudy place Callahan on a gurney while Steve swooped Jaime up into his arms. "We'll talk about this later," Steve told Jaime, knowing he wouldn't have the heart to really chew her out. "Let's get outta here," he said, finally daring to smile.

- - - - - -


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

"She's finally asleep," Steve said quietly, joining Oscar and Michael in the hall outside Jaime's room, just before 3am.

"I'm sure she was exhausted," Oscar added. "She was amazing today."

Michael nodded. "More amazing than you realize." He _wasn't _smiling.

"What is it?" Steve asked, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Let's talk in Rudy's office," Michael suggested.

"How are Rudy and Callahan?" Steve wondered on what had suddenly become an extremely long walk.

"Rudy's just fine," Michael answered. "He's such a tough old bird that he was insisting on helping me with Jaime and Callahan, but I'm keeping him under observation until tomorrow, just to be safe." They finally reached the office and, after following the other men inside, Michael closed the door.

"Jaime's X-rays are back," he told them without preamble. "From what I see there, she shouldn't have been able to walk – at all, much less fight or run."

"They were about to kill her," Steve pointed out. "I just wish that once she was safe here, she'd have stayed put."

"So do I," Michael agreed in a solemn, grim voice. "The bullet originally hit bionics, just below Jaime's hip, and then traveled upward, where it was stopped by the bones in her hip. Unfortunately, every time she walked – or ran," he shook his head in disbelief, "or fought, she put pressure on that injury and on the bullet itself. Now, instead of a simple bullet wound, we're also looking at a hairline hip fracture and damage to the surrounding nerves...possibly permanent."

Steve gasped involuntarily and had to take a deep breath to steady himself. "How serious is...the damage?"

"I don't want her putting any weight on her injury until it's well on the way to healing, so we won't know for at least a few weeks – possibly longer. It may just be a slight, temporary weakness when she tries to stand, or..." Michael was used to delivering tough medical news, but he found himself needing to turn away, unable to look at Steve's reaction to the rest of the sentence. "There's also the possibility that Jaime may not be able to walk again."

Oscar put a supportive hand on Steve's shoulder and spoke for both of them. "You said it may not be permanent?"

"It'll be quite awhile before we can know that, but she may also – eventually – fully recover." Michael turned around to face them again. "Once Rudy's up and around, I'm sure he'll take a good, hard look at the X-rays and run some tests of his own."

"When will you tell her?" Steve asked. "Because you know she'll ask, and I can't lie to her."

"Tomorrow. I'll have to confer with Rudy first, but knowing him, he'll be out of that bed with the first light of morning."

Steve nodded miserably. He'd move heaven and earth to help her, but he was afraid that even the comfort of his arms wouldn't be enough to cushion the blow, when Jaime found out.

- - - - - -

Rudy was up and around with the first light of morning, and by the time Jaime had finished picking at her breakfast tray, he'd had his first look at her X-rays and was on his way to her room to say good morning...and thank you. Rudy had insisted that Michael grab at least a couple of hours of much-needed rest; they'd talk to Jaime a little later, after Rudy ran a few more tests.

He didn't find her stubbornly trying to get out of bed, or even sitting up. Jaime was lying flat-out, under the covers – most un-Jaime-like and a sure sign that she was in pain.

"Good morning!" he said with a lightness he didn't feel.

"Rudy – how are you feeling?" Jaime asked in a weak voice.

"I'm supposed to ask you that, remember?" Rudy smiled warmly at her. "I'm in perfect shape, and it's only thanks to you." He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down, eying her with the discerning gaze of an experienced physician _and _the loving look of a dear friend.

"Jaime," he said gently, after a few beats to maintain his composure, "I really do appreciate what you did, but I wish you'd have left it to Steve and the others...and stayed in bed."

"It's just pain, and I've had worse. Besides, you're worth it." Jaime looked into Rudy's eyes and saw something unexpected there: grief. "...Rudy...?"

The doctor braced himself. He'd never been able to hide things from her and he simply couldn't lie. "We don't know anything for certain yet," he hedged (truthfully). "I'll run some more tests and we'll see what -"

"_Rudy_ -"

"I don't want to give you a premature diagnosis, and -"

"And you know something. Just _tell me –_ please?"

Rudy got up and closed the door, sat back down beside Jaime and took her hand. "Ok, Honey, I'll tell you all of it..."

- - - - - -

Jaime had insisted that Steve help Oscar and Hansen with the interrogations that morning. When he returned to the hospital and found out that Jaime already _knew_, he rushed immediately to her side. He expected to find her, if not in tears, facing her fate with a grim stoicism.

Instead, Jaime was sitting up in bed, propped up with half a dozen pillows. When she saw Steve, she smiled happily. "Hey, you look like someone died, Austin!" she told him in a bright voice.

"Jaime..." Steve sat down on the edge of her bed and took her hand in both of his. He tried mightily to choke back his own emotions, for Jaime's sake.

"You know, don't you?" she deduced.

"Yeah. Sweetheart..."

"Well, you can stop looking so crushed, because nothing's definite yet. Except for this: no matter what the doctors say, I'm gonna surprise them – and you. The second they give me to ok to try, I am outta that wheelchair, on my feet – and I'm gonna walk! Just wait – you'll see!"

From the upbeat determination in her voice, Steve had no doubt that Jaime was right.

- - - - - -


	12. Epilogue

Epilogue

It was a beautiful, clear Spring day, and a warm breeze from across the river seemed to be inviting Jaime and Steve to settle for a bit in the lush, green grass beside the water. Steve could sense that Jaime was practically vibrating with excitement; today was the day she _finally _had the go-ahead to get up, out of her wheelchair and try to take a few steps. She'd asked for (and received) permission to do it outside of a medical setting, in a place where she'd felt comfortable for most of her life.

Steve parked the chair beside 'their' tree stump, marveling that he felt more nervous than Jaime looked. She was utterly radiant, happy to be out of the hospital and ecstatic to be getting _on _with it. Soon, they'd have their first indications of hope of the future...or not.

He hadn't even had the chance to come around the wheelchair and take her arm before Jaime began to raise herself from the chair – alone. He held a ready hand behind her, ready to catch her if she faltered, but after a slight swaying motion she held her ground on her own two (bionic) feet.

Slowly, she took one cautious step forward...and faltered. Steve reacted instantly, catching her before the falter became a fall and easing her down gently onto the soft grass, as though that had been the intention all along.

"That was a great start!" he told her, wrapping her securely in his arms.

Jaime leaned into his body with a wistful sigh. "Shouldn't two bionic legs override one weak hip?"

Steve pulled her even closer, kissing first her cheek, then her lips. He ran a gentle hand through Jaime's hair as her head came to rest on his shoulder. "That bullet did some serious damage," he reminded her. _Which may or may not heal completely,_ he added silently to himself.

"It's _gonna _heal," she insisted, as if reading his mind. "It _**is **_healing."

"Have I told you today how much I love you?"

Jaime grinned. "Not in the last ten minutes."

"Well, I love you so much that I told Oscar I needed at least the next three months off to be with you, and that I wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Nice try, Austin," Jaime giggled, "but I was right down the hall when he _offered _them to you." She tilted her head up for a soft, lingering kiss. "But you know what? That kiss tells me; so does the way you hold me...and your eyes, every time you look at me. And I love you, too."

Soon only the wind through the grass was heard, as two people celebrated one's healing journey...together.

END


End file.
